Princess of Thorns

I hate him. I love him. I hate him. There’s so much feeling raging inside of me I honestly don’t know if I want to kiss him or throw a punch at his stubborn jaw. But when I reach the crest of a hill and see him a field ahead, his shoulders straining the seams of his Kanvasola shirt, his hair shining in the radiant light of his last human day, my anger is banished in a rush of relief so powerful it feels my chest will burst.

“Niklaas!” My shout is rough and raw but loud enough to carry across the space between us. I know he’s heard me, but instead of turning back he digs his heels into Alama’s side, sending her racing down the road away from me.

Away! He’s ru

With a howl of rage, I kick Button harder than I mean to and he launches down the road like a blade from a knife-thrower’s fingers, so fast the air whistles in my ears and my heart lurches and for a terrifying second I think I’ll fall, but then I tilt my torso forward and find my seat, leaning into the wind, hovering over Button’s back as he closes in on Alama.

Closer, closer, until we’re so close I could reach out and touch Alama’s tail as it flies out behind her. She is fast, but Button is faster and carrying less weight.

Soon he’ll be carrying no weight at all.

I’m so livid I don’t stop to worry if I still have the agility to pull off a stunt like the one I’m pla

Time slows and I hang in the air for a second that seems to last an eternity. I realize I’m going to make it, but just barely, and then I’m landing on Alama’s back with a giddy cry, snatching handfuls of Niklaas’s shirt and clinging tight to keep from sliding off, while the startled horse screams and dances to the side of the road.

Unfortunately Niklaas isn’t holding on quite as tight. When Alama rears onto her back legs with an enraged whi

We land in a tangle on the grass, my legs pi

“By the Land Beyond, what’s wrong with you?” Niklaas growls as he rolls off of me. “Are you mad?”

I want to demand the same of him, to demand that he tell me what kind of cowardly bastard runs away without even saying goodbye, but I can’t pull in a breath. All I can manage is an evil glare as I curl onto my side, clutching my fist to my chest, willing my wretched lungs to breathe.

“You’ve probably broken something,” he shouts, his voice as rough as his hands are gentle as he curls his fingers under my shoulders and pulls me into a seated position. I lean over my legs, while he rubs my back, helping coax the breath back into my body. “Can you breathe?” he asks. “Can you talk? Are you—”

“Yes,” I finally manage to wheeze.

“Well, where does it hurt, you fool?”

“In here.” I jab my thumb at my chest as I turn to face him, ignoring the twinge in my shoulder that sends nasty shivers shooting down to my hip. I’m hurt, but not badly, not nearly as badly as I’ll be come morning if I don’t force Niklaas to see reason.

“Your ribs?” he asks.

“My heart, you insufferable idiot,” I shout. “I love you and you’re determined to do away with yourself, and I hate you for it!” I shove his shoulders with both hands and all my strength, sending him falling back onto his ass with a startled grunt.

“You hate me?” he asks, anger creeping into his tone. “Well, I hate you, too! All you’ve ever done is lie to me and deceive me and—”

“Risk my life for you and worry about you and tell you how beautiful and wonderful and fu

Niklaas scowls. “You’re flaming beautiful, and you know it.”

“I do not!”

“Well, you should, you thickheaded thing, but it doesn’t matter,” he says, scowl deepening. “It doesn’t matter that I can’t stop thinking about the way you looked in that dress on Evensew, or the way we— None of it matters. I can’t trust you.”

“Oh come down from your holy mount!” I shout. “You lied to me, too. You lied about your curse and you—”

“No, I didn’t! I didn’t tell the truth, but I didn’t—”

“And you lied about other things, too.” This time, when I shove at his shoulders, I follow him as he falls onto his back in the grass until I’m lying on top of him with my lips inches from his and my fingers tangled in his hair, until I can feel his breath rush out and his arms come around me in spite of himself. “You don’t find the thought of kissing me repulsive.”

“Aurora …”

“And when you kissed me in the grove,” I rush on, breathless all over again. “I never … I never dreamed a kiss could be like that.”

“Like what?” he asks, one hand dropping to grip my hip, sending a jolt of electricity surging through my body.

“Like opening a door to the most beautiful place I’ve ever known.” My lips drop closer to his, heart racing from being pressed against him, from feeling his warmth through my clothes and his strength coiled beneath me. “Like coming home and a wild adventure, all at the same time. Safe and dangerous, and I … I finally felt …”

My breath rushes out on a jagged sigh.

“I didn’t feel alone,” I say, voice breaking as I confess the one thing I’ve held back, the one thing I was afraid to share in the letters I’ve written him the past four days.

The only thing scarier than feeling so alone is fearing you’ll always feel that way, that no one will ever see you for all the things you are, and the things you’re afraid to be, and the person you want so desperately to become. But Niklaas did, he saw me, he knew me better than anyone, even Jor. I know he did, if only he can remember.

“Even with people I love, I’ve always felt like a piece that didn’t fit. I was fairy-blessed but not a fairy, human but with gifts that made everyone expect so much more of me. I’ve always felt alone,” I whisper, forcing myself to keep going no matter how anxious this confession makes me. “Ever since my mother died. I’m always lonely … except … except when I’m with you.”

“What about Thyne?” he asks after a moment, the flash of pain in his eyes making me realize how much I’ve underestimated his capacity for jealousy.

By the gods, if I’d known, I could have sent Thyne to convince Niklaas that there is absolutely nothing romantic between two of us.

“Thyne is like another brother to me. I love you, Niklaas, no one else, not in that way.” I trail my fingertips across his cheek, willing him to see how much I care. “I love you. If you don’t love me back anymore, tell me and I’ll let you go, but don’t run off to die because you doubt me.”

And then I kiss him, and after only a moment he kisses me back and I learn there is something better than a first kiss with Niklaas. There is a second kiss. There is his hands in my hair and his tongue slipping past my lips and his muscles flexing beneath me as he rolls us over in the grass until he hovers over me and my legs wrap around his hips and my fingers dig into his back and our kiss becomes so deep it feels like we’re the same being, the same aching body, the same full heart, the same pulse that races beneath the skin.

We kiss until the sun sets and the air grows cool, but I scarcely notice the creeping in of the autumn twilight. I have never been so warm, so dizzy, so drunk on another person. All my lines are blurry and the world has narrowed to his lips and his taste and his hint-of-a-beard rough against my skin and the delicious smell of him and the even more delicious way his hands roam over my body, touching me everywhere I’ve been dying for him to touch, making me more breathless with every moment, until I pull his shirt from his pants and run my hands up his bare back and down his chest, summoning a rumble from his throat.